


-----------

by Tamagoakura (orphan_account)



Series: Shota Shit [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:23:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2494313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Tamagoakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Content warning!</p><p>This fic depicts the violent rape of a minor. I do not condone any forms of rape or CSA. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to the lives of any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia and I make no money from the creation/distribution of this work.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Love You, Alfred F. Jones!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4822004) by [Tamagoakura (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Tamagoakura). 



> Content warning!
> 
> This fic depicts the violent rape of a minor. I do not condone any forms of rape or CSA. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to the lives of any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia and I make no money from the creation/distribution of this work.

The window slides open almost silently and a dark form slips inside. It stands and is revealed to be a man dressed in a simple gray T-shirt and a pair of jeans. His violet eyes scan the shadowy room and quickly find their target: the dark splotch that is the bed on the other side of the room. He doesn't close the window, but he does take a moment to lock the bedroom door before he approaches the bed.

He's tall, almost towering over the bed in the darkness. His hair is pale blond, nearly white, and his skin is just as light. His name is Ivan, and he works at a cafe down the street from this house.

Soft breathing can be heard coming from beneath the blanketed mound. The man pulls the corner of the covers aside to get a look at his mark - not that he needs to double-check. He's certain that this house is the right one. He had been watching it for nearly two months now. He smiles and lets his gloved fingertips ghost through the boy's hair.

"Alfred." Ivan barely hears his own voice he says it so quietly.

Alfred is eleven and Ivan, twenty-six, is smitten. The boy comes to the cafe sometimes with his father and brother after school and when Ivan had first seen him he thought his heart had stopped. Alfred's hair shone in the sun that came through the shop's large front windows, his eyes were a dazzling blue behind wire frames, his smooth, youthful skin a sun kissed tan. At that moment Ivan knew that he needed to have him. He had wanted to wait until the boy's body had grown but his patience had already run dry.

Ivan pulls the blanket completely from the boy's body and drops it on the floor. Alfred doesn't react but Ivan knows he's a heavy sleeper. Although he's been in here a few times already, he never worked up the nerve to go any further than this point. He stands there, silent and still, just looking, admiring, coveting. How much time passes? Maybe a few minutes, perhaps half an hour. Time loses meaning when pitted against the soft contours of Alfred's face, the gentle curve of his lips, the golden fan of his eyelashes, the slope of his neck. His little body hidden inside of an oversized Transformers T-shirt.

Normally he would lose his nerve and leave by now, but this time Ivan gets over his anxiety and slowly climbs onto the bed. Alfred stirs and he freezes on his hands and knees over the  boy. Again he waits, completely motionless, until he's sure Alfred will not wake. A little snore tells him that the boy's completely out so he leans down, eyes closed, and nuzzles the crook of his neck. He smells like cherry shampoo and the muted scent of a child's sweat. His skin tastes salty, it's expected in the balmy nighttime air. He's always been small, but now, under Ivan, he's tiny. Vulnerable. He's even more perfect than he ever has been.

Ivan looks down, sees those smooth little legs, the way that the hem of the shirt cuts his view off just before his underwear. Alfred's left knee is scraped: he had taken quite the tumble off of his bike earlier that day. Ivan had seen him fail to jump a fence with the slapdash ramp he had cobbled together. Watched him cry. Saw him try to hide his reddened eyes from his mother (he was a big boy now, after all) when he finally limped home and met her in the driveway.

Ivan scoots lower until he's face-to-face with one of those silky thighs when it occurs to him that he hasn't been breathing. He shakily exhales, the warm air spreading over Alfred's flesh, and then presses his lips to the skin. He breathes in through his nose and god Alfred smells _so good_. He places one kiss, and then another, and another, moving up to the gentle heat radiating from the boy's crotch. He pushes Alfred's legs apart and flicks his tongue against the highest inner point of his thigh, kisses it, wants to bite but doesn't. He doesn't want Alfred to awaken just yet and he can't leave any traceable marks.

The boy squirms a little but doesn't wake. Emboldened, Ivan sits up and hooks his fingers in Alfred's underwear and pulls them down. The fabric slides down to his thighs and yet he stays unaware. Ivan almost laughs but catches himself. How could anyone sleep so deeply? He was practically asking for it! He presses his lips together and forces back another little burst of laughter as he tugs the underwear the rest of the way and tosses them on the floor.

Ivan contemplates removing the boy's shirt as well but decides against it. This good fortune can only stretch so far. Instead he pushes the shirt up over Alfred's chest so the majority of his lax body is in view. As much as he would love to continue to admire the boy's form, Ivan is becoming pressed for time. He pushes Alfred's legs apart and reaches to open his pants. He pulls his cock out, he's been hard - almost painfully so - since he had climbed over the boy. Against his better judgment he rubs the head against Alfred's soft boyhood. If he tried, he could probably get off from just that. Ivan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold foil square and rips it open with his teeth. As much as he hates to take any sensation away from this experience, self preservation has made a condom necessary. He rolls it on, lifts Alfred's hips up to get a better angle, and pushes against his small hole.

Alfred grimaces at the pressure and makes a disapproving little noise. His eyes open laboriously and for a second he looks up at Ivan, then down, and up again in confusion. His eyes grow wide and he opens his mouth to scream but only a tiny yelp escapes before Ivan clamps a hand over his lips. Alfred thrashes around trying to scramble away without any luck. Ivan eases up on pushing, beginning to wonder if it was possible to get inside, but tries again, this time with more force. Alfred continues to fight in vain and makes little yelps as his ass is gradually forced open and when the tip slips inside, he shrieks.

Ivan rests his forehead on the bed and squeezes his eyes shut. He forces himself to take a few deep, shaky breaths because he had expected Alfred to be tight but this is something else entirely. He needs to calm himself down, or he is going to come right then and there and all of this effort would be wasted.

It is a shame Alfred isn't enjoying it. The boy struggles even harder, his screams of pain muffled but clear from so close. His breathing is panicked and short, occasionally hiccupping, but he's crying pretty hard now so that's not surprising. Ivan presses a soft kiss to the boy's temple and sits up to get a better view. Alfred's left hand is clamped onto Ivan's wrist, struggling to yank his hand away so that he can scream for his parent's help. The other small hand in gripping the sheets so hard that his  knuckles are white.

Ivan tries to push in farther but doesn't feel much give, so he tries to pull out only to find the same outcome. For a second he worries he's stuck, but that idea's gone as quickly as it's come. He's being silly, that isn't possible. All he needs to do is force it a bit. He pulls back as far as seems possible, and then drives back inside. Alfred shrieks louder, more frantically, and suddenly his body gives way. A red gash rips itself from his anus and nearly a full inch up his perineum and Ivan slides about half of himself inside without issue.

Alfred's whole body is tense, unmoving, his eyes wide and staring up toward the ceiling. Tears are sliding down the sides of his face and leaving wet splotches in his hair. From the sound of it, he's either hyperventilating or close to it.

Ivan thinks the deep red blood leaking out over Alfred's pale skin is beautiful. His heaving chest is mesmerizing. Those perfect blue eyes glistening with tears, pupils blown from fear and pain; Ivan could gaze into them for hours. He slowly lifts his hand and Alfred makes no sound aside from shallow breaths. His full pink lips... they beg for the kisses that Ivan gladly offers. He presses his lips to Alfred's once, twice, slips out his tongue and runs it over the smooth flesh. He slides one hand down and uses it to push Alfred's hips upwards. His hand slips over the blood - there's so much blood - but he manages to keep a good grip when he gently begins pumping in and out of the boy.

Alfred starts to whimper again and Ivan eagerly laps up every little sound. The height difference makes kissing him difficult but Ivan doesn't mind the discomfort. Despite his fear of being bitten Ivan pushes his tongue into Alfred's mouth; he wants to taste the boy, eat his yelps and screams. For a moment he wonders if the police can use his saliva to find him. Maybe. Probably. He doesn't care at this point, this muted sweet bubblegum toothpaste flavor is more than worth jail time.

Alfred is so hot inside, so wet, so tight. Heavenly. Each time Ivan pulls out it's like the boy's insides are gripping him, nearly being pulled out along with his cock. Ivan wishes he could strip out of his clothes and hug Alfred to his chest, enjoy every centimeter of skin-on-skin contact. Alfred's little hands come up and push uselessly against him and the action is so cute that it makes Ivan want to fuck him harder. He tries to keep his thrusts even and gentle but the boy's hot little hole is so tight and every sound he makes pushes Ivan to pick up speed. Soon, despite his better judgment, he's driving desperately into Alfred's small body.

He's already so close, it's amazing. His senses are wholly surrounded in Alfred's presence; sweet and salty on his tongue, flawless smooth skin, kids' shampoo and copper blood, pathetic whimpers. Ivan breaks the kiss and whispers to him, short, breathy words that fall together and fade off here and there.

" _I love you_ ," he's saying although he's sure Alfred cannot understand his mother tongue. " _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you._ "

The building pressure of orgasmic pleasure is increasing rapidly at the base of his cock. He pushes faster, just enough now to make the bed squeak quietly in protest. Ivan covers Alfred's mouth with his hand again to quiet the boy's growing cries and with a few more pushes he finally reaches climax, spilling his seed into the condom with a small groan.

He all but falls boneless atop the boy. He's exhausted and wants nothing more than to cuddle up next to Alfred and fall asleep but sadly that's impossible. With a sigh Ivan pulls out. Alfred makes a soft noise but remains otherwise motionless. Ivan figures that he's probably in shock.

He moves to sit at the side of the bed and slips the condom off. Careful not to spill any of its contents, he drops it into the sandwich bag he had brought for that purpose. It goes into his pocket for safe disposal later. There's a large blood stain on the crotch of his pants that will be impossible to wash out and it looks more than a little suspect. He will need to be sure to drive home as safely as possible to avoid being pulled over - it probably wasn't possible to explain the blotch of dark red away believably.

Beside him Alfred whimpers and starts crying again - a clear sign that it's time for Ivan to leave. He leans over and places one more lingering kiss on the boy's forehead. He wishes he hadn't forgotten to bring his phone so he could get a picture. Instead he takes a moment to commit the sight of Alfred to memory: Flushed tear-streaked cheeks, nearly naked little body broken and bleeding. His cock stirs and he starts to think that he should have just snuck in and stolen the boy instead.

It's too late now, Alfred is clearly in need of medical assistance. There would be no way for Ivan to get him the treatment he needs.  Maybe he should have put more thought into this before he came over. Oh well, Alfred's wounds would be his parent's obligation to treat. Ivan takes the blanket from the floor to cover Alfred up, unlocks the boy's door, then retreats to the other side of room and slips out the window. The window falls shut, and he's gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred walks into a coffee shop on a Thursday at noon. The conditioned air feels good after the stifling summer heat that he had been in for the past fifteen minutes. It's a small shop, tucked away between a laundromat and a computer repair place. The coffee shop is half full, with only one person in line ahead of him. He waits patiently for the old woman to finish her order and once she's gone to find a seat he steps up to the counter. The barista, a lanky young teen with more than his fair share of acne, greets him pleasantly.

"I'll get an Americano and..." Alfred takes a second to look at the pastries that are for sale. "Yeah, just the coffee."

"Can I get your name?"

"Alfred."

"Alfred?" A man's voice comes from the left. The blond turns and sees another shop employee sitting at a booth. He appears to be on break, with a cup of black coffee, a sandwich, and a book set out on the table in front of him. The man gives him a once-over, looking like he doesn't believe his own eyes. "Alfred Jones?"

"Um... yeah. Yeah, that's me."

The man - his nametag reads MANAGER and under that, IVAN - stares at Alfred wordlessly. His expression is one of surprise, borderline shock even. Alfred clears his throat awkwardly and averts his eyes.

"Please, Alfred, sit with me a moment." Ivan offers, motioning to the open spot across the table from himself.

"Oh, uh, yeah sure." Alfred chuckles, a little embarrassed. He takes a moment to pay the barista and then slides into the booth.

Ivan closes his book and smiles warmly. "I have not seen you in years. Where have you been?"

"Some stuff happened so my parents moved us to Virginia. I came back to go to the community college here, actually. Sorry, but I don't exactly remember where I know you from..."

Ivan's smile broadens, causing fine lines to appear at the corners of his eyes. "I knew you when you were just a boy. You've grown so much since then."

Alfred returns the smile. Although he doesn't remember the man, Ivan's gladness to see him puts him at ease. It isn't often one meets an old acquaintance (teacher? Baby sitter?) out of the blue, and one that not only remembers you after so many years, but is genuinely excited to see you. The barista sets Alfred's drink on the table and the blond flashes him a big smile.

"Thanks!" Alfred turns his attention back to Ivan. "So how did you say you knew me? Friend of my parents or something?"

"I used to work near your school and your family would come into the shop quite often."

Alfred nods. His dad wasn't the most chatty, but his mother often struck up conversations with service people. His mother was a chronic flirt, and this guy is handsome so he can't put it past her. Alfred has a bit of a complex for older men so he's not exactly upset about being noticed by him.

"Tell me how you have been spending your time."

"Just normal stuff, I guess. I took a year off to relax after I graduated high school and didn't really do much."

"That is fascinating. And where did you say you are staying now?"

"I've got an apartment near the school."

Ivan rests his chin on the palm of his hand and leans forward a bit. "That cannot be far."

"It's nice how close it is to the school, and there's a burger place two blocks down. The police station is right across the street though." He takes a drink of his coffee. "Looks like I won't be throwing any parties."

"I see..." Ivan's smile weakens a little then perks back up. He asks Alfred about his classes and career intentions, hobbies, interests, favorites. Soon fifteen minutes slip by.

"Shit dude, I didn't notice how long it's been." The teen says and slides out of the booth. "I ought to let you get back to work."

"I apologize if this is sudden, but would you like to go out for drinks later?" Ivan asks.

Alfred laughs. "I'd love to, but I'm only nineteen."

"We can go to my house." Ivan offers.

"I probably could... when?"

"Tonight."

"Isn't that kind of short notice?"

"No!" Ivan insists, almost too adamant. "No, I'm busy for the rest of the week, so..."

Alfred considers it for a moment then finally nods. Free booze is better than no booze! Besides, he's going to need friends in the area and it would be cool to hang out with some older people. "Sure, why not."

 

* * *

 

Alfred is more than happy to allow Ivan's tongue into his mouth. He's sprawled on his back on the couch with Ivan over him, the man pressing sloppy, almost desperate kisses across his mouth, jaw, and neck. They're still both fully clothed but Ivan's hands wander all across Alfred's body. Touching, caressing, pawing and needy. The older man pushes Alfred's legs further apart and grinds their crotches together, a tiny groan pouring into the teen's open mouth.

Alfred's drunk, far more drunk than the four beers he had warrants. Somewhere inside of himself he wonders what's going on, because he's drank before and never gotten this messed up from only a few bottles. He should be more concerned and he knows it but his decision-making skills are nearly nonexistent at this point so he just thrusts back against the man.

"Hang on a second..." He pants out between kisses, pushing Ivan back. It's so hot that he feels faint. Alfred looks up at the man over him... His hands against his chest...

He panics and shoves Ivan back as hard as he can, almost knocking him to the floor. Alfred's mouth is dry and his heart is hammering in his chest. He's so terrified that he can barely speak and he has no idea why. He scrambles back to sitting, breathing rapid, and after a couple tries manages to force his voice out.

"I- I gotta g-go to the bathroom!" With that he jumps up from the couch and hurries down the hall. He wants to run but he forces himself to move slowly enough down the hall not to seem too panicked. He tries a closet before he finds the washroom and throws himself inside. Alfred stands there a moment with his back up against the wood, his breathing ragged, before he locks the door and stumbles over to the sink. He turns it on and splashes some cool water in his face.

Alfred frowns at himself in the mirror. Was this really happening again? Why now? It had been over a year since he had finally worked through enough therapy to allow him to be held so closely. He had come _this close_ to losing his virginity two months ago and the only thing that stopped that from happening had been realizing he was late to pick his little brother up from school. He had been in a much more compromising position than he was a moment ago without freaking out so _why_?

Alfred splashes his face a few more times then catches some water in his cupped hand and sips it. He stands there a moment trying to compose himself but it's hard, harder than usual. He goes through his breathing exercises as best he can past the drunken haze that's muddying his thinking.

A knock at the door startles him. "Y-yeah?"

"Alfred, are you alright?" Ivan asks hesitantly.

"Sorry I'm... I'm not feeling well." The teen replies, squeezing his eyes shut. Alfred forces back a quiet sob. _Great, now this guy knows I'm a complete head case_.

"Did you have too much to drink?" The door handle jiggles for a second and stops.

"Probably... I don't know... Just- Just give me a second okay?" Alfred splashes his face one more time then shuts the water off and wipes his face on a hand towel. He takes a deep breath and finally unlocks the door.

Ivan appears worried, edging on distressed. "Do you need to lay down?"

Alfred considers it a moment then shakes his head. "No, I think I should just go home. Could you drive me?"

Ivan presses his lips together and for a moment Alfred wonders if he's made him mad, but the expression is replaced by a smile as quickly as it came. "I think you should lie down for a while."

"I really don't-"

"Come, you can use the bed." Ivan insists, ushering Alfred out of the bathroom and down the hall. Despite his protests Alfred finds himself being urged, nearly pushed, the short distance to Ivan's bedroom. Alfred just wants to go home and fall asleep but he can't seem to collect his thoughts. Soon he's in Ivan's room being ushered toward the bed.

"Wait- wait a minute..." Alfred says, planting his feet firmly on the floor to stop himself being pushed. He sways where he stands and rubs his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't be this drunk, man."

He hears the door shut and looks at Ivan in confusion. The man's expression is strange, a kind of half-smile that doesn't reach his eyes. His gaze burrows into Alfred, threatening in it's intensity.

"Hey-"

"I won't let anyone take you away from me this time, Alfred." Ivan says. His voice shakes a little and at first Alfred thinks the man is going to laugh but nothing comes of it.

"What?"

"I missed you so much..." Ivan's voice is almost a whisper. "Every day... I thought about you every day. I wanted to die without you, Alfred."

" _Excuse me_?" Alfred asks, confused. He tries to take a step back but his leg bumps into the side of the bed and knocks him off balance. He falls back and lands sitting on the mattress. A shiver of fear runs up Alfred's spine when Ivan comes closer. The man clenches and relaxes his hands a few times, and before Alfred can react he's been pushed onto his back.

Ivan drops over him, pins him down, and kisses him so forcefully it hurts. Alfred scrambles back but can't get out from under the man. "What the fuck is your problem!"

"I know you remember me, Alfred." Ivan murmurs between the kisses he's dotting across the teen's jaw. "You don't need to pretend. I know you remember the time we had together. How close we were. How _perfect_ we were together."

Ivan's tongue slides over Alfred's neck. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It was an accident, I would never try to hurt you."

Alfred thrashes and struggles uselessly before he's forced to stop lest he makes himself any dizzier. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Yes you do!" Ivan insists, voice tinged with sharp anger. Despite the teen's protests he forces his left hand into Alfred's pants but he can't reach far. Alfred's vision is spinning and he feels nauseous so he's all but helpless, unable to stop the man from undoing his pants and tugging his jeans partway down his hips. Ivan reaches into Alfred's underwear and locates the spot between his ass and balls. He presses a finger against the raised scar tissue and smiles. "Right here... You opened up for me so beautifully."

The color drains from Alfred's face. For a second he feels numb, unbelieving that the dark figure that haunted his dreams even to this day could possibly be real. On an intellectual level he knows that the man who attacked him all those years ago exists, but over time he had become more of a phantom. A towering beast, the physical embodiment of pain and fear. That black silhouette that sent Alfred screaming himself awake every night for years, terrified of the dark, in and out of the hospital, needing a handful of pills just to get through the day.

Alfred nearly laughs. It was almost disappointing to have that _thing_ revealed to just be another flesh and blood human being. Some guy who hangs out reading and sipping coffee, a guy who pays his taxes, washes his dishes, juggles bills, just a guy who carries on through life as if he were normal.

That sick sense of mirth evaporates when Ivan's finger slides down the short scar and presses gently against his hole. He wants to run but he's positive now that the man slipped something in his drink. Ivan pulls Alfred's pants off completely and tosses them on the floor. There's time now, and privacy, so Ivan works Alfred's T-shirt off as well and throws it away.

"You're perfect." Ivan whispers, gaze working up and down Alfred's bare body. "You've always been perfect."

"I think I'm gonna throw up." Is all the teen can will himself to say when his stomach lurches. Whether the nausea is from the drugs, booze, or fear he's not sure.

Ivan looks at him apologetically but doesn't get off. "I'm sorry. I've never used those pills before, I only bought them today. I may have given you too much."

Alfred gags and swallows thickly. "I wanna go home."

"I can't lose you again, Alfred." Ivan states.

"Please man, I just wanna go home." Alfred blubbers, tears breaking and sliding down his cheeks. Ivan sits up and for a moment and Alfred thinks he may have changed his mind, but that hope is immediately dashed when Ivan pulls his shirt up over his head and chucks it onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Ivan drops back down over Alfred and latches his mouth on the teen's neck, sucking and licking and nipping. It almost feels nice somewhere past the dizziness and churning stomach. Alfred squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself not to puke - the last thing he needs right now is to vomit all over himself. The man moves down his chest, nibbles gently on a nipple, circles it with his tongue then sucks the bud between his lips. Alfred forces a little groan to die in his throat. Kisses move down, over Alfred's belly - it's concave, the blond has had trouble eating since their first encounter - a little puff of breath spreads out over the skin. Warm tongue circles his belly button, slides down wet and smooth. Ivan stops just above the start of Alfred's pubic hair, presses a kiss on the last patch of smooth skin.

Another sob wrings itself from Alfred's throat when the man's mouth closes over his soft penis. He presses one hand over his eyes and clenches his jaw, willing himself not to cry. It's a useless gesture. Salty tears slide free and his breathing is dotted with various little hiccups and sniffles. His distress doesn't dissuade the older man at all. Ivan just continues on, sucking and licking Alfred's manhood in an increasingly successful attempt to get him hard.

Soon Alfred's as hard as he's going to get with the drugs in his system so Ivan releases him with a loud slurp. Alfred hears the gentle clink of the man's belt and a long whine escapes his lips. He can't will himself to look - it's bad enough that he can't make himself move, he doesn't want to add to the situation by actually _seeing_. He feels the man wiggle, hears the shimmy of his pants coming off followed by the muffled sound of the fabric landing amongst their other clothes. There's a shift of weight followed by the dull sound of a drawer opening.

Alfred tries to calm down, focuses on his breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In, out, in, out, in, out.

The pop of a bottle being opened.

In, out, in, out, in, out.

The man's hands on Alfred's thighs, pushes them apart. Ivan's quickened breathing is quiet but perfectly audible. The bed dips a little as he gets into position.

In, out, in, out, in, out.

Fingers, slick and warm, rub against his hole. Massage, circle, a little pressure and when one slips inside Alfred screams. It doesn't hurt but the sensation is all too familiar, even after all this time. He expects it to hurt, to burn, to rip and tear and pull his insides out. He panics, screams again, hollers as loudly as he can but only a few words escape before there's a hand clamped over his mouth. He tries to scramble away but can't move his sluggish body far. A wave of nausea hits him so strongly that he actually vomits a small amount. Ivan's hand is still over his mouth so he's forced to swallow it back down, gag, gulp again to stop himself from puking any more.

Alfred falls quiet, his chest heaving as he starts hyperventilating. Tries to stop, tries to calm down but he can't. Ivan presses a kiss to his forehead and hushes him softly, like one would a small child. "Don't do that, Alfred. I love you. I won't hurt you."

Alfred wrenches his head to the left to try and move away from the man's gentle kisses and sickly sweet words. He wishes it wasn't real. He wishes it was just another flash back, just another panic attack, something that he could come around from safe at home. Ivan's finger is still inside of him but the man doesn't move it. He just keeps dotting little kisses along Alfred's forehead, over his cheeks, pecks a loving one onto the tip of his nose. He coos encouraging little words, promises pleasure, declares his undying love again and again until Alfred's breathing finally slows down.

"There, that's better..." Ivan murmures into Alfred's hair. "You need to relax for this, I don't want to hurt you."

The man finally moves his finger again and this time Alfred only flinches slightly. He soon adds another, still working gently but clearly impatient. Alfred looks at the ceiling and tries to think of something else, anything else to distract himself from the strange feeling. His dick is totally flaccid again, the previous panic having sucked any semblance of pleasure out of the touches. Finally Ivan removes his fingers and after warning Alfred not to scream, takes his hand from the younger man's mouth.

Ivan repositions himself a little and aims, nudges his cock against Alfred's ass, then pushes inside. It's slow going, only a few centimeters and then he stops to allow the teen some time to relax. A little more. Stops. More. Stops. Pulls out a little and then pushes back in. Alfred yelps and grunts every now and then through quiet snivels. Ivan is about halfway in when he pauses and takes a moment to touch Alfred's limp dick. He gently strokes it, ghosts his fingers along the length, runs his fingertip around the head. Alfred covers his mouth with the back of his hand to try and hide a soft moan, but the way his cock jumps in Ivan's hand betrays him.

"See, I knew you would like this."

"Fuck you." Alfred attempts to sound harsh but his voice cracks.

Ivan shushes him calmly, then leans down and presses a chaste kiss to the his lips. Alfred doesn't pull away so Ivan tries again, and this time he takes the teen's lack of response as willingness.

He's too emotionally and physically exhausted to bother fighting anymore. The tears keep coming but Alfred feels so numb that it barely registers when Ivan slides his tongue into his mouth. The older man shudders, dips his tongue further inside, runs it along Alfred's teeth and across his tongue. He starts thrusting again, slow, deliberate pushes meant to open Alfred up. His breathing is a little harder now, more excited, and soon his movements follow suit. He pushes in harder, picks up speed. One hand works the teen's dick and the other moves up to cup his face. Gentle fingers trail over Alfred's cheek, jaw, travel up to push through his hair.

Alfred winces, Ivan's increasing speed beginning to hurt. The deeper he goes, the more pain flares up. The man's touches manage to keep him half hard but he's not enjoying it. Ivan pushes harder, squeezes Alfred's cock too firmly, quickly becoming wrapped up in his own experience. His pushes are more harsh, moans Alfred's name into the teen's mouth, finally breaks the kiss and buries his face in the crook of his neck to suck angry red marks onto the skin.

Alfred squeezes his eyes closed, tries to shut everything out. The pain inside rapidly increasing, the bitter taste of vomit left over on his tongue, Ivan's shaky breaths and grunts in his ear. Incessant whispers of "I love you" over and over again like a mantra. Ivan promises how happy they will be together and Alfred's stomach turns.

Ivan releases the younger man's cock and instead wraps his arms around him, squeezes him in a tight hug. He presses their bodies flush together and pushes in more erratically, then thrusts in one last time, so hard and deep that the pain makes Alfred cry out. Ivan tenses up and stays where he in a moment before all but laying down atop the other man. He presses a few kisses against Alfred's cheek and temple then nuzzles his hair.

Alfred swallows thickly. After a while of laying there quietly as Ivan peppers little kisses over his face, he forces himself to speak. His voice comes out as little more than a strained croak. "Can I go home now?"

Ivan chuckles and finally pulls out. The sensation of his come spilling out almost makes Alfred cry all over again. He pushes a few loose strands of sweat-dampened hair from the teen's face. "You are home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is, the second part that was never meant to exist. People wanted it and gosh darn it I kinda did too so I wrote it. It's not very in-depth but that's because this is an AU of another fic I'm working on, so if you want more on Al's home life and stuff you'll get that whenever that fic gets released.


End file.
